


Coldest Night

by Meri



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: AU, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meri/pseuds/Meri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve and some imbecile is out walking in the snow.  Snape is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coldest Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Merry Smutmas 2005 for r_becca
> 
> Disclaimer: I acknowledge that I'm using the characters and world created by J K Rowling without her permission. I do this out of love for said characters and world. I am not making any kind of profit from my writing.
> 
> Thanks so much to Smara, Regan_V, and Beth H for above and beyond story beta and to Marcelle for a stellar edit. Any mistakes after that are my own.

Christmas Eve, Snape thought with a grimace. Instead of being alone in his quarters with a warm drink and a hot fire, he was out in the frigid weather, walking around the school, looking for the imbecile he'd seen from the third floor window.

It was too late and too cold for any of the students to be out, but that didn't mean some fool didn't have a death wish. The fact that he'd felt obligated to investigate on the coldest night of the year did not add anything to his mood.

In truth, this time of year never did anything for his mood, anyway. He hated the whole bloody season. Too many memories, too many people who weren't there anymore. Not that there had ever been that many to start with, but now -- now there were none.

He hadn't had to stay at school for the holidays. They had ample coverage for the few students left here, but Spinner's End at Yule was too crammed with nightmares to be borne without a good reason. He hadn't been back there at holiday time for years

The sounds of someone's boots hitting the frozen snow meant he'd found his quarry. Harry Potter. He should have known. That he was out at night was nothing new. Indeed it was reminiscent of nights past. Long past. Harry the recalcitrant school boy was gone, Snape reminded himself.

"I would think that at your age, you'd be smart enough to come in from the cold." Snape used his most scathing tone.

Satisfyingly startled, Harry blinked up at him. And then he grinned that idiot grin he had, the one that made Snape want to believe he was glad to see him. A rather different and unexpected reaction from that of Harry's awkward teenaged years. "You'd think I would know better, wouldn't you?"

"Alas, you were never very bright." Snape carefully kept the amusement out of his voice.

Harry Potter at fifteen was easily angered and easily manipulated. Harry Potter at thirty was an entirely different beast. There was an underlying strength, a maturity that had not been present in the boy he'd been. The callowness of his youth had been burned away by the war and time. Despite the years passing, Harry hadn't changed much physically -- he was still short and slim. Snape didn't think about how someone else might appreciate those changes; he certainly hadn't noticed.

"I suspect I'll never be able to measure up to your exacting standards, sir. How shall I survive the shame of it?" Harry bowed his head, trying to look contrite. His long wavy hair fell forward, hiding half of his face.

With an effort, Snape ignored the itching in his fingers and forced himself not to move that heavy hair away from Harry's face. Instead he scowled, trying to hide what he feared would not be hidden for much longer. "Indeed not. You do realize that if you stay out much longer you will not have to worry about the shame of it; you will freeze to death?"

Harry pushed his own hair back. "Worried about me, are you? Why Severus, I'm touched."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm only concerned about the scandal it will cause the school. The Boy Who Lived and Lived and Lived, found dead in the snow. What would your friends and fans say to that?" Snape shuddered in mock horror.

The amused look faded from Harry's face. "I'm sure they wouldn't all be that upset."

"Not so popular as you once were?" Snape put a sneer in his tone. Despite the years that had passed and Harry's aborted career as an Auror, Snape was constantly amazed at the sheer number of articles the _Prophet_ ran about Harry. Not that he'd paid any attention to that rag, of course.

A challenging light gleamed in Harry's eyes for a moment, but it faded to something that could have been sadness. "It doesn't matter. I know who my friends are. And who they are not."

Snape suspected that Harry put him in the latter category, which stung more than it should have done. "Why are you not with the ever growing Weasley menagerie?"

"I should be. Tomorrow, perhaps." He was lying. Snape knew he'd agreed to stay for the entire holiday.

The question was why. There was some part of Snape that fantasized that he was the reason, but he was far too sensible to actually consider it. "So, it's dinner with the forgotten few left here tomorrow, then?" Regretfully, he counted himself among those with nowhere else to go.

"Why does it matter to you?" Harry asked, and there was something inviting in his tone.

As much as Snape might have liked to have answered, the truth of it was that he feared stepping over the unofficial boundaries they'd tacitly set up when Harry had come back to teach. "It doesn't. You should go in. It's going to snow shortly."

"I'll be in after a while."

"Don't be an idiot. Come inside now." Snape was not about to leave him out in the cold like this.

  
Harry straightened up, his expression familiar in its mulish stubbornness. "I think not. I've got rounds to make."

"There are perhaps half a dozen students in the entire school, and I suspect they are all in bed at this hour," Snape said, trying to rein back his annoyance. Harry being difficult was enough to drive him mad.

"I wouldn't have been in bed." Harry's tone was as challenging as it had been when they'd argued long ago.

Yes, yes, Snape remembered that only too well. He did not care to think about the time when Harry had been a student here. Not that he regretted his treatment of Harry. The times had been difficult and coddling anyone was not something he was going to waste his time on. What he'd been forced to do in that war still haunted his nightmares. He suspected that Harry knew and understood that, too. And if he didn't, Snape wasn't going to worry about it now.

Staying on the offensive, Snape sighed to express his exasperation. "You were always breaking the rules, weren't you?"

"I know you thought I was being disobedient, but it wasn't always by my choice." Harry's tone had picked up a definite note of defensiveness.

Snape could almost see him remembering all of their confrontations. The most vitriolic of all had occurred after Snape had led the trio to the fourth Horcrux. Harry had finally understood that Snape was on the side of light, but it had not been a pleasant discussion for either of them.

"Perhaps not, but the rules were there for a reason," Snape said, shaking off the bad memory.

"No doubt. I understand that better now. Then, however, I had a job to do." Harry's voice was heavy with regret.

"So, you did. A job that should never have been given to a child," Snape said.

"It's so easy to say that now. But everyone had live with the consequences of it." Especially Harry, who had borne the brunt of the aftermath.

The thing that surprised Snape the most was that Harry had insisted on testifying at his trial and had been such a staunch supporter that the Board of Governors of Hogwarts had been forced by public pressure to rehire him. Of course, not everyone had appreciated Harry's support of an ex-Death Eater, no matter how much good Snape might have done.

Right now, Harry looked weary to the depth of his soul. It was on the tip of Snape's tongue to ask how much sleep he'd got lately. It was none of his business. None of his concern.

It started to snow, the small crystalline flakes sticking to Harry's cloak. "It's too cold to remain outside. Come in now, Potter," Snape ordered.

"I want to be alone. Just go in and I'll be in before I freeze, I promise." The plea was easy to hear, but impossible to comply with.

"I don't care what you want. You're not going to stay out here and freeze to death. I have enough on my conscience as it is," Snape said, in his best teacher tone.

For one moment, Harry glared at him, and then he sighed. "I absolve you of all responsibility for me."

As if simple words could ever do that.

The snow was falling harder and Snape's feet were starting to go numb. For a moment, he thought about a binding hex, but conceded that Harry could make his own decisions, idiotic though they might be. "You're a fool, Potter. If you can't see that it's snowing. I'm quit of you." Snape glared at him for good measure. "I'm going in. You may kill yourself if you wish."

Harry glanced up at him, giving him a considering look. And then he nodded, as if he'd come to some kind of decision. "You're right. It's too cold be out tonight. Let's go in then."

Snape bowed and waved a hand for Harry to precede him.

"Don't trust me?"

"Not at all." Snape held open the door and Harry went through it. He stopped in the entrance hall, shaking the snow off his cloak.

Harry looked first at the stairs and then back at him. "Severus, before you go downstairs, would you like to join me for a cuppa?"

In the three years that Harry had been back at Hogwarts, they had interacted many times, usually fairly cordially. Well, it had been cordial compared to their past history, but Harry had never made any kind of personal overture. And frankly, Snape did not trust this one. "Why?"

"Nothing untoward. Really, it was only an offer of a cup of tea. Not an invitation to bed," Harry said, smiling a little too innocently.

Even with his misgiving and the certain knowledge he was making a mistake, Snape said, "Yes, then. I'd like that." He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of his cloak.

A second later, Harry's face split with an unexpected smile. Snape hid his satisfaction at the surprise on Harry's face. "Good. Let's go up. I'll ring for tea when we get there."

Silently, Snape followed him up the stairs to his rooms in the north tower.

A portrait of a woman petting a large snake hung next to Harry's door. Harry said the password and then spent a few minutes conversing with the snake in Parseltongue while Snape waited impatiently for him to finish.

As the door closed behind them, Snape looked around. To his surprise the room was nicely decorated in neutral colors. He supposed he'd expected it to be garish Gryffindor red and gold, or something equally less adult.

There was a small Christmas tree in one corner decorated with lit candles and twinkling icicles. Pictures of various people waved from the mantle over the fireplace. Even more of a surprise was the number of books in tall bookcases along the walls.

"What exactly was that conversation with the snake about?" Snape asked.

  
"He was telling me that he approves of you for some reason." Harry said and then chuckled softly. "Sit." He waved Snape to the sofa. "I'll order that tea."

The tea arrived and Harry handed Snape a cup. The silence between them seemed to stretch out. Snape sipped his drink, waiting for it to warm him.

"You've been back for three years and in that time, this is the first time you've invited me here. Why now?" Snape hated a mystery.

Harry shrugged. "Why not?"

"Just whimsy?" It seemed unlikely to Snape, but Harry wasn't someone he had any hope of understanding.

"Maybe it's because it's Christmas Eve, and I didn't want to be alone. Or maybe, I've harbored this secret passion for you since I came back and have been trying to work up the courage to tell you."

Snape's heart clenched at the insouciant tone. How often he wished that were true, but, no…Harry couldn't possibly mean it. "What utter rot, Potter. Try again."

Something flashed across Harry's face, and it was gone too quickly for Snape to interpret it. "As I said, it's Christmas Eve."

Snape sighed. A jolt of sympathy went through him. He supposed that loneliness was never easy to bear. Unfortunately, he had some experience with that himself. "You of all people do not need to be alone. If you don't wish to join the chaotic Weasleys, then surely there are legions of other friends who would be happy to spend time with you."

"You don't know that."

That stopped Snape. Harry was right. He'd merely assumed. Something he knew better than to do. "All right, then, tell me why you are alone tonight."

Harry stiffened, his expression becoming suspicious. "Why would you care?"

"Why not?"

For several long moments, Harry looked at him as if he were deciding to say something or not. He sighed. "No one wants to think about the past anymore. They all say, get on with your life, but sometimes you can't."

Snape understood that only too well. "Surely you're not so bound to the past that you can't move on."

Harry shook his head. "I still remember it. Voldemort's dying scream still haunts my nightmares."

Snape shuddered. He'd been there and heard it. "Dreamless sleep can make it all go away."

"I don't want to be drugged. I think I need to remember it."

"To what purpose? It's been a dozen years. Torturing yourself over it will do no one any good."

"I'm sure you're right. But…I don't want to talk about this. Not now," Harry said, with a sigh. "Is it so hard to understand that I don't want to be alone tonight?"

The path they were on was fraught with pitfalls. Snape was terrified of being dragged into something that he suspected he'd never crawl out of again. "Ah, so even my company is better than being alone. Somehow I would not have thought that were true."

"Your company is what I want." Harry's eyes flashed with irritation.

"I simply can't imagine why. I'm hardly a congenial choice."

"No. But you are amusing and intelligent," Harry said with a laugh.

Snape supposed that was true as far as it went. But the very thought that Harry was desperate enough to want to spend time with him twisted panic into his gut. Perhaps it was time to leave.

"Don't you think I get lonely?" Harry looked at him as if he might actually have an answer.

"It's a human condition we are all subject to," Snape said, and he resented that he was as subject to it as anyone else. "What I don't understand is how I could possibly assuage it. In case it's escaped your feeble notice, we don't like each other."

"Well, it's actually that you don't like me," Harry said, sounding almost as if…that pained him.

Snape could not believe that the opposite was not also true. "Actually, I don't care about you one way or another." He tried to make his tone match his words.

Harry's expression changed to speculation. "So, you don't care if I freeze to death in the cold."

This was getting to be too much, or maybe too close to the truth. "Oh, do stop the drama. I don't want the school's reputation to be damaged."

"So you said," Harry smiled again. "You know, I think you might actually care about me --"

"Do not delude yourself. I do not care one bit!" That answer came too fast and too hard. He sounded like he was denying something that was true, which as it happened, was exactly what he was doing. He sneered to cover up the slip, but rather thought it was too late.

Harry stared at him, and Snape could see the dawning delight in his eyes.

Enough of this, Snape thought, standing up and straightening his robes. "I thank you for the tea. However, I can't waste my time here all night. I have to do rounds before I go to bed."

"Who was it that just told me there were only half a dozen students in the whole school over the hols and they were all tucked safely into their beds?"

He was starting to sweat and knew he had to get out of Harry's too-warm quarters. "I must go." He picked up his cloak and moved toward the door.

Harry stood and moved with him, putting a hand on his arm when he would have reached the door. "Don't go," he whispered.

Closing his eyes, Snape sucked in a harsh breath. This couldn't be happening. Things like this did not happen to people like him. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Don't you ever get lonely?" The words were soft and low and asked too many questions that Snape didn't want to answer.

"Not enough to take what you're offering," Snape said, scathingly, and as cruelly as he could.

The look in Harry's eyes said he'd scored a hit. Snape's stomach tightened with remorse. He did not care to add to Harry's burdens, but neither did he wish to add to his own.

Harry said, "How do you know what I'm offering?"

He didn't know. That was the problem. "Be that as it may. It's irrelevant. There are legions of your fans who would be better suited to…tea, than I."

"Good God, you're not still going on about that, are you? You know as well as I do that's a load of crap." The sweetness had changed to anger. Snape could not help but think that was a good thing. Maybe Harry would let him out with his dignity intact.

"It is who you are." He had to make sure they were both reminded of that. No matter how lonely Harry thought he was tonight, he would regret this in the morning. And for Snape to see that regret would be worse than walking away now. There would be nothing left to build his day-dreams on.

"I thought we were beyond that. I thought we were, if not friends, then at least not enemies anymore." The pleading in Harry's voice sliced through him with unerring accuracy and Snape's heart gave a dull thud.

"I am not your enemy." Snape pulled his arm away. "I must go."

Harry put both hands on Snape's shoulders and turned him around to face him.

"What do you want from me?" Snape asked, meeting his eyes for one second, and that second was enough to see the vast loneliness, the terrible emptiness that was inside of Harry. There was no way to escape it. There never had been.

"I understand what it's like," Harry said, softly. "We can help each other."

"We can't." When weighed against the momentary pleasure of Harry's touch, the danger of permanent damage was too great, but oh, how he wanted that touch. A shiver ran through Snape and he gritted his teeth, trying to find the fortitude to pull away completely.

Harry moved his hand to Snape's cheek. "We can. We both understand what happened. What we sacrificed. That's why I'm alone, and that's why you're alone. There are so few people who do understand."

Closing his eyes, Snape pressed his face into Harry's hand for a moment, and then lifted his head. "I should leave now. This is a supremely bad idea. And we shall both regret it."

"No, we won't." Harry sounded so sure. As if he knew this would not destroy what was left of both of them.

There was no such thing as blind faith in Snape's world. "You never think of the consequences."

"I'm a Gryffindor." As if that were the answer to everything. But perhaps, for Harry, it was.

"I did notice that." Snape also knew that this was Harry and ultimately Snape could do nothing except give in to what he wanted, what he needed. It had always been that way. Even when he'd hated the boy. It was impossible now that he cared for the man. "It has been a very long time for me," Snape said, surrendering to the inevitable.

"Me too." Harry leaned up to press his mouth to Snape's, kissing him softly, undemanding, coaxing a response.

Snape's eyes closed, and he shivered hard. A jolt of lightening went through him when Harry's tongue touched his. Sensations he'd nearly forgot existed sluiced over him in waves and he moaned. He'd dreamed of this for so long, wanted it so badly, and never, ever, believed it could be his. Even as he could hardly believe it was happening, Snape slid one hand down Harry's back, the other one holding the nape of Harry's neck. Opening his mouth wider, he invited Harry to explore deeper and then tried to give back the generosity of the kiss.

Harry pulled back and put his hand back on Snape's cheek. "It will be all right. I promise."

Snape didn't believe him. Couldn't believe him. It would all end in disaster. He was trembling as Harry leaned up to kiss him again. Even as he opened his mouth again to allow Harry's tongue in, he knew he should be running away as fast and as far as he could.

But Merlin, Harry tasted sweet. Sweeter than he'd ever thought in any of his fantasies.

A voice inside him cried out that he shouldn't allow this. That it would destroy him when it ended, be it tomorrow morning or some other morning in the future. It had to end. He wasn't meant to have anything so fine as Harry Potter.

"You're thinking too much, Severus." Harry lifted his hand to Snape's hair, carding through the strands. "Must mean I'm not doing this right. Tomorrow is soon enough to deal with what's wrong in the world."

It wasn't the world at large that Snape was worried about. "I can't do this." He would have stepped back, but Harry was holding him tightly and he was loathe to break the contact.

"Yes, you can. And I'll help you." Harry started to unbutton Snape's robe, making quick work of the many buttons on his jacket, shirt, and undershirt.

Snape shivered as cool air hit his slightly damp, warm skin. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be helping you."

"We can help each other."

He could not conceive of a world where Harry cared that much about him. Harry gathered him closer, holding him, kissing him again. Snape's eyes closed. The feel of Harry's hands on his bare flesh warmed him, coaxed him farther into capitulation. He wanted Harry, wanted what he was offering, even as he knew he would pay a high price for it.

"Why would you want to help me?" Snape whispered, on his last defense.

"Because I can. Because I want to."

Snape would have said something to that, something scathing or hurtful, but there were gentle hands on his skin. He couldn't bring himself to let go. Harry's sharp teeth worried over his nipple, using just the right amount of pressure. Pleasure arrowed straight to his groin. Snape moaned, sure his knees were going to buckle. He was lost, his last objection overridden by sensations.

"Bed, I think," Harry said, lifting his head and smiling.

The withdrawal of sensation made Snape blink. "For once, an intelligent suggestion from you. Your bed sounds like a wise destination. The floor is far too cold for these sorts of things." Snape reached for Harry's robe.

Harry shrugged it off after Snape had finished with the buttons, then his jumper, then his shirt. With trembling fingers, Snape reached out to touch Harry's bare chest and slightly rounded belly. He shuddered as Harry pressed into his hand.

Snape undid the belt on Harry's trousers, and watched as he stepped out of them and his pants.

"Merlin," Snape breathed, but stopped himself before he could say how fine looking Harry was.

As if he knew what Snape was thinking even without him saying a word, Harry's eyes lit with pleasure. "My turn."

Snape wondered if he should warn Harry the sight would not be so appealing, but he said nothing, standing still and allowing Harry to work on undoing his trousers and pants. Harry knelt to remove Snape's boots and socks.

What he didn't expect was, "Oh lovely," to come out of Harry's mouth with just the right amount of reverence. Had Snape been anyone else, he might have believed it. Harry pressed a kiss to his hipbone, and licked his navel as he stood up.

"You needn't lie to me. I'm well aware of what I look like." It was easier to return insults for insults than to believe pretty lies. Tender words ripped into him with a special kind of agony.

Harry frowned at him. "It's true."

"There is nothing attractive about me, and we both know it." Snape scowled, hoping Harry would drop the subject before he said something he should not.

"I'm not lying. You have a nice body, and lovely white skin."

"My skin is the color of a fish's underbelly and I am thin to the point of emaciated." That might have been overstating the obvious just a bit, but he was not lovely and never would be.

"Oh, please. That's ridiculous."

"No more so than you trying to tell me I'm lovely." Snape was ready to call this off and go home. "You needn't work so hard merely to get laid." But it wasn't just sex, was it? Not for Snape, anyway; he couldn't begin to guess what Harry wanted from him.

Thankfully, Harry laughed at his comment. "You're right. We should get to it."

"Maybe we should forget this ever happened." Saying the words made Snape's stomach ache. He was lying. He wanted Harry more desperately than words could express.

"You want to make this as difficult as possible, don't you?" And didn't Harry sound amused by that?

"It's my goal in life. To make things as difficult as possible for Harry Potter." At one time in his life, it had been completely true. Now, however, he just wanted another kiss, and to lie down beside him for a while.

For some inexplicable reason, Harry roared with laughter.

"What is so funny?" he snapped. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Harry was going to use this against him in the worst possible way. A shudder of dread went through him as he saw himself humiliated over and over as Harry told stories about his desperation.

"You are. Even naked and about to make love with me, you won't give an inch."

That was where Harry was wrong. He'd give everything he had for this. And he resented that he wanted to, but that didn't change the fact that he did. "So you agree that I'm difficult --"

"Only as much as the day is long." Harry gathered him close again, walking backward towards the bed.

Harry turned them around so that Snape's back was to the bed, and leaned up to kiss him. As the kiss deepened, Snape allowed himself to fall into it, pleasure moving through him. This was why he was putting up with the rest. This feeling of perfection as Harry's lips moved over his. This soft, warm thing that should never be his. For tonight, at least, it would be.

He laid his head on Harry's shoulder when it ended. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the comforting scent of Harry's skin. Contentment moved through him, but after a moment, it gave way to arousal. Harry felt so good in his arms.

Harry's hands slid down his back ever so slowly, cupping his buttocks, groping gently.

Yes. Oh, yes. It had been too long since he'd felt even those mild sensations. They promised of greater, more potent sensations to come. Anticipation constricted his gut. Yes. Please.

Snape was eased down onto the bed. His legs were nudged apart and Harry knelt between them, his hand moving in slow circles along the inside of Snape's thigh. The touch of calloused fingers on his flesh sent warm bliss through Snape. Oh, how he loved being touched with tender hands, by someone who cared about his pleasure.

Leaning back on his hands, Snape watched Harry kiss the inside of his knee. He shuddered as utterly delightful sensations danced over him. Harry nuzzled upward, slowly making his way to where his mouth would do the most good.

Bliss turned to fire when Harry kissed the head of his prick, tonguing along the slit, back and forth. After a moment or two, Harry pulled back and smiled at him, then leaned forward to lick him from root to tip.

Snape's brain short-circuited. "Please," he moaned. "Oh, please."

Harry sucked the head slowly, swirling his tongue over and over. Snape whined at the teasing, which went on and on. Finally, Harry showed some mercy, and took him deeply into his throat.

The wet heat surrounding him was so incredible, so compelling that he had to thrust into it. Harry hummed, and Snape was lost. Joy swirled over him much like Harry's tongue was doing. Moaning pathetically, he canted his hips into it again, all that mattered was the brilliant pleasure.

And Harry knew how to draw it out, to break the rhythm even as Snape was ready to succumb to it.

"Please, please, please," Snape moaned, his whole world concentrated on the mouth on his prick. He was ready to do anything asked of him, anything at all, to finally find release from the magnificent torment.

At last, Harry let him have his way. Snape cried out as the pleasure and pressure and light crested in a giant crescendo and he was flooded with delight, coming fast and hard.

He collapsed onto the bed, sweating, sated, and content. His legs were splayed apart and he tried to catch his breath. Before he had completely recovered, Harry pushed his legs to his chest, exposing him.

  
"Hold yourself open for me," Harry said, putting Snape's hands on the backs of his thighs so that he held himself apart and up.

"Don't move," Harry ordered.

Snape was still too far gone from his orgasm to really comprehend what was going on until Harry leaned forward and licked him. Snape's body tightened, as bliss slithered through him. Harry's tongue was magic, rousing him again when he would not have believed it possible so quickly. Trying to keep still, and failing rather badly, Snape moaned and writhed on the bed, begging for completion at the same time hoping the ecstasy would never end.

Pleasure slipped and rolled through him with each touch of lips and tongue. Harry's mouth was hot and knowing, creating sensations that shut Snape's mind down and reduced him to utter incoherency. Snape whimpered, "Please, please, please."

  
"Soon," Harry promised, his fingers starting to slide in and around his tongue.

The pleasure changed subtly, sharpening, ripening. Harry knew just where to touch, how to add just that little bit more spice to enhance. And it was glorious. Snape's back arched as Harry hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"Please," Snape whined again.

Just as the sensations started to coalesce, and Snape feared he was going to come too soon, Harry stopped and moved them back up the bed. He knelt in front of Snape and arranged his legs, draping them over his shoulders, and petting his straining thighs. Harry's slick fingers pushed into him a few more times, just to get him going again. Which was not difficult, all things considered. Snape was ready to beg again, when Harry finally gave him more.

The slight pain of penetration focused Snape on the present. At least, until Harry started to move inside him. His mind gave way to pure sensation, and he surrendered to it. Harry pulled back and then shoved home again, angling perfectly, raking over his prostate, making the world go bright with stars. The jolty, near-painful pleasure was unreal, unbelievable and Snape loved it.

Harry moved on him with vigor and determination. So perfect. Snape flew with it, higher than he'd gone before.

It couldn't last, he knew that even as Harry tried to draw it out. Snape's hands clenched into the sheets as the heat and light coalesced into perfection. Then he was awash with sensation, reveling in it, giving himself over to it.

His pace increased and Harry groaned as he stiffened and came, too.

Snape sighed, contented for the moment.

"Mmmm…." Harry murmured, gently pulling out and lying beside him.

Snape expected awkwardness. He expected regret. Anything other than to be gathered tenderly into Harry's arms and having his neck nuzzled.

Harry's tongue slipped out to lick at the sweat on his shoulder. "You taste good."

Snape would have laughed at absurdity of that, had it not felt so good. "Don't get sentimental on me."

"Of course not." Harry sounded amused and Snape could feel him smiling against his skin.

Snape turned over to face him. "This was nothing more than two lonely --"

"Don't ruin it with words you don't mean." Harry's voice was sharp, not nearly so amused as a moment ago.

"Potter…Harry, what was this, then? We are not going to start a mad love affair, are we?" It was so much easier to make it a joke. So that when Harry rejected the idea, it wouldn't hurt so much. At least, that was how it worked in theory.

"It could be."

Sweet Merlin, if Snape didn't know better, he might think Harry was serious. "You're joking," Snape sputtered, trying desperately to quell the hope that sprang up in his heart.

"Even you can't deny that we've got the passion. It's not so far-fetched that we could give the rest of it a shot." Everything in Harry's expression spoke of his seriousness.

Snape could not imagine why he would consider such a foolish notion, but he could not stop the roar of hope in himself. "Don't be absurd."

"I think we could make it work. I know we can." Harry's tone said he was actually thinking about it, as if it might happen.

Snape knew it couldn't be. He could not conceive of it. "What would your friends say if they heard you talking like this? Don't let a moment's weakness make you say something you don't mean." Closing his eyes, Snape viciously pushed his dreams and longings away. He could not bear it, could not believe in it. If Harry insisted for too long, Snape would start to believe, and all would be lost.

"My friends all want me to be happy. I don't care about anyone else." Harry made it sound so bloody simple, when they both knew it was anything but that.

"The Weasley clan will descend upon us en masse and murder me in my bed." Snape shuddered. It wasn't a joke, and he knew it. Whether he'd admit it or now, Harry knew it, too.

"They already know how I feel about you." Harry pulled him closer when Snape tried to extract himself from Harry's arms.

"Now is not the time to confess undying love." Snape scowled and tried to pull away again, although not hard enough to actually accomplish it.

"I wasn't going to do that." Harry chuckled. "At least, not yet."

Snape groaned and put his arm over his eyes.

"I think I know how you feel about me."

Panic started to settle into Snape's chest again. "No. No. You know nothing of the kind."

"Yes, I do. And what's more, I think you know how I feel about you, too."

He was getting an idea and it was making his heart hurt. This could not be happening. "I don't know that either. And I don't think now is the time to talk about it."

"Tomorrow then?" Anticipation sang in Harry's words and it scared the bloody hell out of Snape.

A tremor went through Snape. He wanted that too badly to believe it ever could be his. But he couldn't fight against the warmth that was invading his chest. "No. Not until the holidays are over." Snape would do his best to avoid Harry as much as possible.

"I think tomorrow would be a fine day for a chat." Harry sniggered at his scowl. "I'm not going to let you run away from me."

"I'm not going anywhere." But only because there was no place to go. Even if he did decide to cut and run, he had a feeling Harry would find him anywhere he went.

"Just the same, I think we can talk about it in the morning." Harry's hands stroked along Snape's back, comfortingly.

Snape wondered when he'd lost control of the situation. "Why must you constantly contradict me?"

Harry laughed. "Because I can. Because I want to. What are you going to do about it?"

It was difficult to threaten satisfactorily when you were naked and cuddled into your antagonist's arms. "I'll think of something. Tomorrow."

"You do that. Happy Christmas, Severus," Harry said, kissing him and then pulling the bedding up. He cuddled Snape even closer, and promptly fell asleep.

Warm all the way through at last, Snape followed him without argument.

\--finis

October 2005


End file.
